Fantasy New Oasis: Four Heavenly Kings — The B-Sides

[Doctor Llamabean]

August "TAZZ" August

CS Link

SCENE:

Feelers in the Deep

TIME:

Post-Outbreak — July 18th, 2022; Late

LOCATION:

Beyond the outskirts of North District

PARTICIPANTS:

August, Rytaro

FEELERS IN THE DEEP

Weiss is a problem. August’s eyebrows elevated at that—a spark of notable interest upon his otherwise bored expression—as if to say tell me more. He listened further, enjoying his smoke, eyes drifting toward the twinkling sky. The stars—they were much brighter outside New Oasis. But he always knew that.

Though he seemed to not be listening, blowing rings of smoke for play, he was, and it became apparent when, once more, he returned his gaze to Ryutaro on the repeated question, which, this time, sounded more like a demand.

Before answering, August let his cigarette fall to the ground, and he stomped it out with a twist.

“Alroight,” he started, hands in his pockets, gaze toward his feet as he sauntered closer to the Tiger Queen. “Ya’ve twisted mah arm, so ah’ll tell ya.” They stood, now, an arm’s reach away before August looked up again. “Ah want’im ta suffah. Don’t want’im dead.”

August pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, mouth slightly agape as he glanced between Ryutaro’s eyes, gauging his reaction for a sign of disapproval.

“Wouldn’t do me no justice,” he said. “An’ no sense wastin’ time on trauma stories when all ‘at mattahs is we’ve got similar interests, yeh?... But wot’s tha catch? Wheh do I... fit into your equation, mh?” August gave the Queen a poke to the chest at that, prepared at every second for a quick retreat.

“An’ wot’s tha benefit? You get an empire? I get a pat on tha back?”

AUGUST NOTES​

— —POST RECAP: The conversation thickens.

— —WEARING: TBA

(Interacting w/ Ryutaro)
(Mentioned no one)
joshuadim ​

 

[thebigfella]

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

LOCATION:

East District

DATE:

July 19th || Post-Outbreak

PARTICIPANTS:

Tak, Hiachi miki Eisyu (NPC)

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

There was a moment, a distinct tremor, the smallest ripple in the air that tickled at the nape of his neck and coursed through Tak’s body like worms crawling underneath his skin. A feeling of discomfort he couldn’t describe suddenly disrupted the relaxed atmosphere.

His usually pupilless eyes were gifted with eyesight just so they could turn backward along with his neck towards Hiachi. Something told him to look back, and before he could even register his body as moving, he was looking at her.

Her eyes.

They always seemed distant, unfocused, embedded deeper under layers than thin protective mucus, far out of reach for anyone to reliably grasp, for him to even try reaching far.

It was only now that Tak could only perceive how deep it reached. Swirling pools of black, a void that swallowed, its deep patterns spun and absorbed all light into antimatter, cloudy at the edges, disfigured and jumbled like numerous sketches of how someone unaware of human biology would draw eyes.

Tak felt time freeze around him in his black-and-white surroundings. Faint were the echoes of fluttering wings, tiny and made of chitin, yet they beat at the wind with ferocity within this stillness in time. Moments of nothingness passed and then came the sound of electricity going through a current, reaching a lightbulb as it crackled and flickered to light, a dull buzz. And within the black-and-white space of everything and nothing, Tak’s eyes widened.

“Dad…?”

A blurred memory, as if smogged by layers of steam on a window. A peripheral close to the ground, barely coming across the windowsill, they peered past the glass; droplets of rain drizzled down and cleared the faintest streams, wiping away trails of fogged glass to look upon the outside.

Streetlights across the dark sidewalk, the opposite end, and the opposing roads absorbed into darkness, only leaving one thing illuminated. It was a car, distinct in its make, old for its time, Almere in make, a bright yellow sheen.

A man stepped down a flight of steps, a hat covering his expression, a suitcase in his left hand, gloved in leather. He walked to the car door and pulled it open.

It was only then he paused and looked back, and as his head rose to look towards the window--

Lightning tore through the atmosphere, superheated air combusted and thundered with sonic booms that shook windows. Clouds formed, and raindrops began to fall.

Hiachi had left, and Tak was standing there, his arms crossed. He hadn’t followed behind her, and he hadn’t asked any questions. Instead, he stared at the door. Pupils once again departed, leaving a harrowed sliding door.

He was used to the girl getting tired of his antics and getting out whenever she could, and usually, he’d drag her back into it with his ridiculous claims and actions. But at this moment, Tak couldn’t bring himself to step closer to the door. The cold breeze caused him to recoil slightly.

A moth fluttered in when Hiachi had left and landed on one of the lanterns nearby, perched as it stretched its wings in the silence.

Finally, Tak turned to look at Eisyu; his lazy frown returned, and so did that slouched posture. Those dead-fish eyes looked at the older man, pointing over his shoulder towards the bar.

“Yo, pops. Think the bar is open this late? Kinda in the mood for a drink.”

 

[miki]

Eisyu Ito (NPC)

CS Link

SCENE:

WYTTTTLBYUFTIFOYIACP

LOCATION:

East District | Hibachi Bar

DATE:

June 19th, 2022 | Evening

PARTICIPANTS:

Eisyu (NPC), Tak

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

Such things as miracles are never expected—not in the true sense. Miracles within expectance are wishes come true, or coincidences. But a real miracle is when the last spark of hope that the dark thought it snuffed out bursts into flame.

The old man’s mouth was agape for a moment. Her eyes bore through him. They drank up shadows, even as they glinted in the light. The one-of-a-kind, large eyes of his lost daughter. Ones he knew unmistakably after years of study and staring back, from the wondrous glint of an infant to the typhoon of voided emotions of a teenager.

And then the bell rang again, and a cold draft was let in. The breeze swept over his heightened emotions, leaving them dry and chilled.

The sign of his shock faded to absence when he closed his mouth abruptly and bowed his head, the single spotlight above the grill casting a harsh shadow over his eyes.

Eisyu thought he lost hope long ago. But if that was true, he wouldn’t have stood with such even shoulders. If he had truly lost hope, he would have set down the chef hat, the spatulas, the oil. He would spend his days reflecting black and white screens in his eyes, mowing lawns and mending machinery. Like any sensible man his age.

But he couldn’t let it go.

He had so many questions. Every thought he had piled up over the years was bursting at his chest, begging to be realized. The young man before him had blessed him with a chance to answer every spinning thought he had. His mouth was dried as he struggled to conjure up words.

Because he couldn’t act too brash. The fellow was as human as he, and probably wouldn’t take well to such bombardment. And it was hard. All he wanted to shout was: “Did you know that’s my daughter? How did you know her? Can she come home? Can you please tell her to talk to me?” Such a storm could only be controlled by the practiced stoicism he had built up over the years.

Eisyu’s lips flattened as he decided on his first words: “Yes, of course. Come sit.”

He continued to scrub the spotless grill. After a few moments passed, he let the first, reasonable questions pass.

“Who was she? And what was that about?”

In a slightly joking tone, Eisyu asked the most nerve-wracking questions he ever had in his life. Those were his stepping stones: sparks of conversation. He would reach the point soon enough.

Spoiler

thebigfella

 

[Nobody Special]

VULKEN BECKMAN

CS Link

SCENE:

Operation Burning Heartthrob

LOCATION:

South District

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1, August 10th 2021

PARTICIPANTS:

Charlie, Vulken

CURRENT STAGE:

0

Operation Burning Heartthrob

Like a cane shooting out from offstage to tug on the neck of an underperforming comedian, Vaudeville Vulken’s arm flew through the gaps in the bar’s crowd to pull Charlie out of the battle zone. Once the young man was back in the safe zone, Vulken held back all urges to blurt out ‘What the fuck was that??’, and instead gently patted Charlie on the head with a tipsy, reassuring smile.

“Y’know what? Maybe I shouldn’t have just tossed ‘ya out there.” Maybe he shouldn’t have brought him to this spot at all. With how that went, the two would probably have had better luck at the Red Note– where all the artsy, music loving chicks went.

He clenched his fist. Real men didn’t back down or resort to easier options when faced with adversity. They knocked whatever stood in their way the FUCK over, no matter how big or strong it was, and picking up chicks at a bar was no exception. They wouldn’t run just because of one small failure!

Vulken was suddenly fired up– most likely because of the multiple drinks he’d had since he stepped foot inside this place– and he just knew Charlie was, too (he probably wasn’t).

“Y’gotta talk about more… general topics, kiddo. Can’t just swoop in and start talkin’ motifs and… Keisterhymes to the ladies, y’know? Ain’t nothin wrong with chattin’ music, but if ‘yer gonna do that, try and talk about somethin’ ya both can relate to, like the music they’re playin’ here.” He placed a hand on his chin in thought for a moment. “The fuck is a Keisterhyme, anyway…? Whatever– just watch and learn!”

With that, Vulken slid away from Charlie, leaving him at the bar with a fresh drink sitting next to him to down if he wished to. Like a lion on a hunt, he quickly selected a person from the crowd– a shorter young man with a lithe body and raven black hair. He dressed a bit too casual for a bar, opting to wear a hoodie and some oversized jeans, but Vulken found it cute.

“How ‘bout that DJ?”

Vulken’s target looked him up and down, sizing him up before responding with a small smile.

“She’s alright, I guess.”

“Well, what would ya rather be listenin’ to?”

After a brief exchange of words, some laughs, and a purchased drink, Vulken waved the man off and returned to Charlie with a fresh contact in his phone. “Heh. See? Keep it calm an’ casual, and eventually everythin’ falls into a nice flow.”

Then, after a few seconds of silently basking in his own greatness, Vulken finally caught wind of the elephant in the room.

“...Ohhh.” He awkwardly looked at Charlie, his lips curling up into an embarrassed smile. “My bad, Charlie. I probably shoulda did that with a girl as a better example, huh…?”

He cleared his throat. Get it together, man. You’re supposed to be helpin’ this kid let off some steam, not make it so he never wants to hang out with you again!

“Anyway…” Vulken continued, twiddling his thumbs. “...What even is your type, man? If ‘yer not seein’ anyone here who suits ‘yer fancy, I guess we can go somewhere else…”

Roda the Red

[art by gxxberkit]

 

[joshuadim]

RYUTARO HASHIMOTO

CS Link

SCENE:

Call to Arms

LOCATION:

Ryutaro's Rooftop Garden, Imperial Gardens Condominiums, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Ryutaro, Camila

Call to Arms

The Tiger Queen's face did not move as he studied Camila's other associates, taking care to study their names as he scrolled past each page in the file. Certainly an impressive cadre to collect, but that wasn't ultimately what quirked his attention once more. Rather, Camila's admission of her inability to properly corral them caused him to perk an eyebrow up as he turned his gaze back to the woman. "That's unfortunate." Ryu commented, "Which I find to be a distinct problem among the Tigers in general. The lack of... cohesiveness."

He then leaned back into his seat and gazed out beyond the glass panels of the expansive greenhouse to the wider city beyond. "Too long we've allowed freeloaders to scrape on by without pulling their full weight. It's prevented us from being able to truly push our material advantages." he delivered as a harsh commentary to the current state of affairs. "It's something I intend to rectify."

Turning back to Camila, he continued: "Should you become Jack, people will have to listen to you. That includes your current subordinates. But as you currently experience, there is a lack of organization among our lower ranks. I intend to address this with an adequate restructuring of how the Tigers function between Veterans and Rookies... Elders and Youth... Superiors and Subordinates."

He then sighed: "But to prove you're capable for the job in the first place, you need to get your house in order."

Roda the Red

 

[thebigfella]

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

LOCATION:

East District

DATE:

July 19th || Post-Outbreak

PARTICIPANTS:

Tak, Hiachi miki Eisyu (NPC)

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

Muffled footsteps, soft, nigh weightless. The thug would always wander around aimlessly, thudding and storming through whatever was in his path without a care for who or what. He found himself pacing, delicately avoiding his surroundings, making sure not to bump into anything on his way to the seat.

He pulled out a stool. The screech of it against the ground matched the sounds of the stone from the grill brick. In unison, Ebisu pulled back on it, and Tak pulled himself forward to lean over the counter.

While the old chef continued to scrub, Tak reached his arm over the bar, his fingers stretching and fiddling until he finally felt the touch of gold glass against his fingers. Catching it between his thumb and forefinger, he hoisted it in the open light. Its faint yellow glistened underneath the light, reflecting his face off the half-filled liquid, distorted and misshapen.

Its words were written in a language he never got the chance to learn or understand, but it's worth clear in its labeling. Tak knew his way around a bottle well enough to assume its contents, an expensive brand of shochu, maybe even imported. Usually, such a price would keep him away from enjoying life's finer delicacies, but never once did the thought of money cross his mind.

Only that his mouth felt parched.

He grabbed a shot glass with another hand, and with a grunt he sat back into his seat, placing the glass upon the laminated wood. There was the sound of metal scraping against the glass as he twisted the cap off, the steady stream of liquid matching the sounds of a gentle river reaching its end at a series of cascades.

Once it was filled to the brim, it finally stopped pouring, reaching the edge of spilling over. Tak placed it on the table and slid it to the side. Finally bringing the glass to his lips, he tilted his head back and swallowed.

A sigh as the burn went across his tonsils, down his throat, and through his esophagus. It was not relief, nor was it pain. Wordlessly, he let the half-emptied glass sit against the counter again, the contents sloshing, swirling.

Tak’s tongue moved around in his mouth; he didn’t feel any less thirsty. Maybe he should have just gotten a glass of water.

He stared into the small glass, his arms resting against the counter; for a long time, there was nothing said between them. There wasn’t much going through Tak’s head, and for once in his life, he waited patiently until the time was right.

There wasn’t an immediate response when Eisyu finally asked him a question. Tak raised his head slightly, those lifeless eyes masked behind ruffled hair. Still, he could see the look on the older man’s face. The family man, someone who had worked hard to provide a pillar that refused to let itself topple, for it would bring the whole foundations crumbling. It was a look he had recognized, not from his childhood, but the same eyes he had seen in many men before he had to stain his fists in their blood.

The thought had never resonated with him, and the hesitation he felt during those moments never dawned on him. But just as he had frozen his fists in the past, he found his words stuck in place as Tak was left to consider whether what he was doing was really worth it.

“Like I said, she’s an acquaintance of mine,” Tak reiterated, his fingers tapping against the counter. Acquaintance, those words resonated in his head. Initially, he had used them sparingly, unsure what else to label the girl.

Slowly, memories gurgled to the surface. He and that girl in black always found themselves in similar situations. It had all started with a busted door and progressively got worse. Sour expressions etched into his thoughts, soot-covered clothes, marks and bruises from jobs that had gone wrong, more ridiculous things such as cotton candy stuck through their hair, and a swarm of angry dogs nipping at their heels.

Those foggy memories were joined by just as faint recollections, bowls of curry as they ate side by side, walking down a lonely road at night, stars high above, and a moment at a bar where they both drank from the same cheap bottle.

Throughout it all, Tak had one question. Who is Hiachi? He had never bothered to consider. He knew nothing about her, and little did he bother asking. Did he do it because he didn’t care? Or out of respect for her past? Such answers escaped him.

“I don’t really know her that well,” Tak stated. His fingers found themselves in his glass, and he brought his to his lips and finished off the rest, letting it hang between his fingers as he finally straightened up to look towards Eisyu. “Got no clue why she ran out like that. She always does stuff I don’t understand. She’d probably say the same about me.”

Tak put the glass down, and with another turn of the bottle, it filled once more. Tak couldn’t keep his eyes meeting the Eisyu's until he returned his drink. “Pretty rude of her, ain’t it? …You’d think she was raised better.”

He spoke impassively, dull and dry, as he took another swig.

 

[joshuadim]

RYUTARO HASHIMOTO

CS Link

SCENE:

Feelers in the Deep

LOCATION:

Just outside New Oasis, closer to the North District

PARTICIPANTS:

Ryutaro, August

Feelers in the Deep

Ryu let off the faintest of smirks when August made his intentions for Markus known. The Tiger Queen would prefer Markus to be forced to step down, to have to say the words with his own lips. A complete and utter humiliation from the prideful bag of wind that was the current King to have to admit utter defeat. But, of course, he didn't expect that pleasantry to come true given the man's disposition. He would likely rather die by his own hand from spite rather than utter such an admission. But still, he wordlessly agreed with August's desire for Markus' suffering - death was too quick for a vapid, arrogant being such as Markus.

"Well, not so much a pat on the back as it would be quid pro quo." Ryu stated, "You help me, I help you. Such is the way of the world. A transaction is conducted only when both parties are satisfied with the terms."

He then crossed his arms and tilted his head slightly: "So... what's your price for your help? If it's within my power - and reach - should I win and become King, I'll grant it."

Doctor Llamabean

 

[Peckinou]

Hiyma

CS Link

SCENE:

To live in the shadows

LOCATION:

Warehouse, South District

PARTICIPANTS:

Hiyma, Charlie Roda the Red

To live in the shadows

It was a bit relieving to know that she wasn't tearing apart one of his better shirts, though she wouldn't of exactly cared too much if that wasn't the case as Helva and Zulin had already sliced it up quite a bit anyways. Besides it wasn't like he could make a good argument against them when she is doing it in order to attend to his health. Which was something she was mostly focused on, not even noticing Charlies face turning red as she was entirely focused on treating him. Still though Charlies screams of pain were a bit more difficult to ignore but she managed to quip out "Yeah, yeah I know it hurts, but it would be more painful later on if it's not treated besides, I bet you weren't screaming like this when you got these marks." she made a little gibe at him but she had eventually managed to finish up her work, and stepped away from Charlie in order to see if she missed anything or if there were any flaws in her work. But luckily there wasn't any major flaws to find as she had done it expertly and precisely, which would be pretty impressive to other folks considering she did it in the dark, and they didn't know that she was able to see best when it came to being in a dark Enviromint, but eventually Hiyma gave a nod of satisfaction before going on to engage Charlie in a conversation.

"Yeeeeah, no I can't promise you a thing, all the trials are difficult in their own way and the final one is a bit unpredictable, this one was atleast safe to a extent, well safe in a way where you are at minimum risk of dying all while maximizing the amount of pain you will be in. Meh, either way the final trial could potentially be more dangerous and there is higher chance of you possibly getting killed since it consist of more real field experience work, though I can assure you that we will try to make sure you don't die in your trials." Hiyma shrugged a bit as she gave Charlie a bit of insight on what to expect from the trials to come before continuing "But anyways, you will get a week or two to recover before we contact you again should be enough time to heal somewhat, so I would suggest you get a lot of rest so your body can heal, or you can go to a legit doctor and get more extensive treatment from them, but it's whatever you want to do just know you will your next trial will be in a week or two, so don't get too busy during those weeks or you might come to regret it once your trial assignment is given." with all the business now officially taken care of Hiyma began to notice his figure but quickly turned around in embarrassment before saying "A-Anyways ahhh feel free to rest there until your ready to leave, if there is anything else I could help you with just ask, except for details about your next trial of course."

[/justi

 

[miki]

Eisyu Ito (NPC)

CS Link

SCENE:

WYTTTTLBYUFTIFOYIACP

LOCATION:

East District | Hibachi Bar

DATE:

June 19th, 2022 | Evening

PARTICIPANTS:

Eisyu (NPC), Tak

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

He watched as the young man found his place in front of him. There was no hesitation, no dejection, in his stance. He was finding the words, and Eisyu could wait patiently.

He didn’t flinch as the bottle of whisky was taken from beside him. The prior customers—now hours away—had asked for their best Sankaian spirits. But they declared hysterics against the price, and it remained untouched.

In the midst of the long silence, the young man picked up the conversation right where it had been left off.

He didn’t try to conceal the grit in his sigh. In hindsight, expecting a perfect sequence of answers was foolish. But his eager soul made him unrealistic. His shoulders became slack as he set down the rag.

The thickness of words unsaid hung in the air. It was Eisyu’s choice to fan it away, or to linger within. Such choices had grown tough over the years. For as many years as he has lived, Eisyu has learned that remaining in the fog of ignorance is safer than revealing uncertain truths. He could predict what would happen if he stood still: nothing. The endless possibilities that beckoned to him were more likely to be demons than guardian angels.

With a nod, the old man sifted through the stock of ingredients behind the grill. In the fridge sat a lone egg, half of an onion, a zucchini, mushrooms, and the last of the pre-cooked rice. Only enough for some fried rice. He set the items on the counter beside him.

Silence was as common an occurrence from Eisyu as lengthy conversation. As he turned the grill on again, his thoughts spun into action with the ignition.

He studied his face. He recalled every word he had said—acquaintance. coworker. Normally, Eisyu minded his business. But in a situation like this, the meaning behind the litany of scars, bruises, and scratches were alarming. No slight on the young man, of course, but he walked in with a new minor wound every time he sat down.

Then what does that mean for his job? And more importantly, what does that mean for his daughter’s job?

After he dumped sesame oil over the metal, he cracked the egg over the grill. It sizzled and popped with the oil as he cut and shuffled it around.

He couldn’t write it off as something she would never do, because his daughter practically ran headfirst into danger. He hadn’t forgotten any incidents: when she was eight, she wandered off with a stranger during the summer festival despite being lectured many times about stranger danger. When she was fourteen, she kept getting into trouble with members of that local gang. His wife hated that she kept arguing with them, and Hiachi hated that anyone thought she was arguing at all.

He dumped the last of the rice with a dash of soy sauce. He mixed it in with the egg as he set aside the onion and zucchini. After the rice was mixed enough so as not to burn, he began chopping up vegetables on the side.

What his wife hated the most—and in hindsight, maybe it was granted—was that scorpion-tailed friend of hers. Hiachi admired her so, with her strength and rebellious personality. A parent’s worst nightmare. But Eisyu chose not to overreact.

Was that a mistake?

It was all very troubling.

Eisyu dumped the chopped veggies onto the heated part of the grill. There was no need for fancy tricks this time, but he still took care when making sure each part was evenly seared.

The last comment reached him within his thoughts.

“I am not so sure,” He sighed, regret hanging on his back. “How good can she turn out with me as her father? Even now she makes me look good,” He mused as he pointed at the door with the spatula. “Smart.”

As quickly as he dropped the truth on him, he carried on. “Ah, do you want chicken or steak? We don’t have seafood now, but I can get more meat.”

Spoiler

thebigfella

 

[thebigfella]

Shishido Takakazu

CS Link

SCENE:

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

LOCATION:

East District

DATE:

July 19th || Post-Outbreak

PARTICIPANTS:

Tak, Hiachi miki , Eisyu (NPC)

When You Take The Time to Look Back, You’ll Usually Forget That In Front of You Is a Cheese Platter

The sizzle of oil, the ripples as it heated. The smell of the smoke that came from the oil was woody and nutty. The appetite that Tak forgot had brought him to this place in the first place came back, joined by the aromatics hitting the flat top.

There was a gurgle in his ravenous stomach; Tak gave it a hefty pat as he leaned backward in his stool, “Still, boy,” he soothed it like it was a rabid dog.

Food is a language his mother had drilled into him and appreciation for whatever he ate when someone cooked for him was paramount. Someone only cooked for you when they wanted to say something they couldn’t express in words. When he came home covered in bruises and bandages, after scolding him and ripping him a new one, she would place him in front of the table where they’d both eat from their bowls of chicken and dumplings. She would come home tired from work, working a shift that started at unimaginable hours and ended at unbelievable time, despite that a flicker of gas would bring a flame to life, and somehow a steaming bowl of shrimp and grits would land on the table in front of him.

He could still smell and feel himself picking up his fork from the table linens and shoveling the hot food into his mouth. What was she trying to say back then? And what was Eisyu trying to say now? Tak was never good at reading people, but he was sure the food language of a father was just as tasty as he had always imagined it.

“Don’t know, pops.” Tak clearly breathed his unsureness about how to reply to his statement, rubbing the back of his neck as his lips curled slightly. “I ain’t got no clue what it’s like to be a father. Hell, I barely remember my own old man.” Tak stated, crossing his arms as he gave his own sigh, less of regret and more of long-settled acceptance.

“I grew up without my dad and worse than her, so I doubt you did that bad a job. After all,” he paused, taking a deep breath as he looked towards the ceiling, rocking back in his stool as his following words fell out of his lips lightly.

“She still called you dad, ain’t she?”

Letting his head drop down and resting his arms back on the counter, he looked back towards the grill, the tiny sparkles of oil as they bounced off the burning hot metal and the distortions in the air from the heat.

“When it comes to chicken and steak, you gotta go with both, old man. Don’t be dumb.”

Tak wouldn’t even begin to try to understand Hiachi or her emotions. What was going on in her head was her own. Tak always did stuff without reason, or at least not a good one, but Hiachi was different from him. She must have had a purpose.

Hiachi was different from him… yet they had done something parallel.

Only a few years ago, he had done the same thing: run away, desiring greater, hungering for more than he could find within the comfort of his home. He left without saying anything. He got his own place and joined a gang.

His mother would call, but he would never pick up.

Every day. Then, every week. Every month. Every other month.

He could have changed his number, but he didn’t. Something made him do it, stop everything he was doing, and listen to the ringing, watching it vibrate until it stopped.

He had never set up a voicemail.

A year passed. Spring, summer, fall, winter. Flowers bloomed, and rain fell. Tak looked at his phone some nights, staring at it as if waiting, but nothing happened.

Within the grayscale of his apartment, he stared through the window. Only the TV's illumination had any color as it basked the laundry and trash-covered floor around him. More than usual, he was disheveled, with hungover eyes, a loose-fitting shirt, bedraggled hair, and a terrible 5 o’clock shadow across his face. He seemed okay, standing there forever, watching the droplets fall across the window.

Outside, at the streetlight, was a car of foreign make. He had seen it several times before, and it was a popular model.

The streetlights basked it in a glow, the shadow of a moth cast upon its windshield as one fluttered by.


…

Tak’s phone rang; it rumbled in the pocket of his shorts.

Without hesitating, he reached into his pocket and pulled it out, pressing a button and putting it to his ear.


“Hey, old man,” Tak spoke as things returned to color, the sight of the present as Tak occupied himself with another sip of his drink, “I never cared to ask, but what’s your wife like? That’s her mom, right?”

A surprisingly probing question from the man who always seemed to want to keep himself out of others business, always uninterested in personal stories and platitudes. It appeared the buzz of alcohol was putting him in a more sociable mood than usual; that was all it was.

 

[Haze-]

Dante Aguilar

CS Link

SCENE:

R B S Y D O I B C

TIME:

April 3rd, 2022 || Pre-Arc 3

LOCATION:

Blast Off DVDs, West District

PARTICIPANTS:

Tak, Minato, Dante

Returning Back Something You Don't Own Is Basically Childbirth

“Gh—wegh—heheHEH—hehehehheheheheh…~!” — A wheezing, choked up cackle left the shadow, retching on a literal mouthful of arm, twist and bent, prying her jaws wide open. Cerberus flashed glances between Dante and Tak’s approaching fist, smile so wide it brought all of her eyes to a half-lidded squint. If she had eyebrows, she would’ve ben wriggling them like a worm — “Kh—hyeah! He’s so useless ain’t he?”

The wolf opened her palm and threw back the arm, elbow nudging her on one of her eyes, wiggling claws after their fistbump broke. Like Tak and her had a secret handshake all of a sudden. Dante stood there, looking at them, extra dead behind the eyes.

The wind whistled and sighed, his dark hair flowing with it, brushing against his eyes, a not-so-subtle jab from the world itself. Then it howled, a loud ‘fuck you, Dante’, dark bangs slapping him across the face. Frown lines carved deep into his brow, could’ve planted crops and watched them grow there.

After bitting back an annoyed sigh, laboring for a half-spoken, cut-off, muttered sentence (something about killing Tak in his sleep), Dante finally grumbled out — “It was my plan, you fucking asshole...” — He pinched the bride of his nose, reiterating — “MY plan…” — His low, near growling voice twined with irritation at the throat.

Alas, his words would fall mute to uncaring ears. Tak snatched a shadow straight from Cerberus’ hand, the inky black digit-turned-key giving little to no resistance as he went and took it. Just stretching, pulling and snapping out of her— earning Tak a quiet ‘Owie~’ in the back of his mind— like it were dough, reforming back to solid shape the moment he went to give it a spin in his hand.

Dante winced, holding a hand up to his head once he felt that zapping sensation hit the nerve-ends of his brain, like a neuron were about to pop up there. She was doing too damn much, splitting parts of herself and keeping that key-mold solid in Tak’s hand. He was starting to feel the strain already.

“Now, now,” — The wind swished; a playful bark came up behind Dante. And it was sassy — “Don’t go stealin’ my credit, downplayin’ m’ talent. I know lookin’ at perfection right ‘n the v’neer might get ya’ feelin’ jelly, but bottle up them feels for now, handsome~ Right now we’s gotta…”

As she was about to bark up the rest of that, she had than phantom-limb feeling of Tak proudly starting towards Blast-Off’s without a second thought. His enthusiasm shot right through her, hyped her up— “DAMN STRAIGHT!” — Jaws unhinged, frothing with an unhinged grin on her snout, all blood-shot eyes wide and pitch-black fur waving like dancing wisps of shadow. An overstimulated dog off the leash, that’s all she was.

Maybe this meat bag guy wasn’t so bad after all…

The wolf waddled on behind Tak, trailing his shadow— so excited that she’d forgotten she could’ve just teleported there. Dante watched them, deadpan, one eye ticking. After a moment, contemplating where he’d gone wrong in life, he finally decided to just shove hands into his pockets. Sighing, rubbing a tired hand on his neck — “Let’s just get this shit over with, man...”

They came back around the alley he’d dragged them to, he swiveled around the bend, golden eyes scouting the area just behind Tak. Unlike Tak’s clear disdain for their designated decoy of the night, Dante wore a light smile to him, utterly surprised the kid had kept the clerk’s attention for as long as he had. Maybe his game had gotten better throughout the years.

That short moment of amusement didn’t last at all. When Dante turned to look, Tak was walking on his tippy-toes, like someone were about to drop an anvil on top of his head. His smile immediately dropped. There was that tick in his eye again— “I swear this guy’s just trying to piss me off…” — He steadily paced his steps behind Tak, forced to match his awful slowness on their way to the door.

When they got there, Dante lagged behind once Tak left the door ajar, holding two fingers up just over his shoulder — “You stay here, make sure greenie doesn’t stick around in case Minato fucks up…” — On cue a floating set of grinning fangs came up behind his shoulder, raking a tongue across her pearly whites.

“Ya’ got it, handsome-face~”

The shadow snaked along without so much as a final cackle, merging with the clerk’s shadow just as Minato was about to begin his two-man show.

Dante slipped into the store, sucked in a breath between clenched teeth before closing the door behind them. He turned to shush Tak, frowning like he hadn’t just whispered whatever he’d spitted out — “Yeah, yeah— just don’t go making too much noise…”

“Fuck’s the shelve for this thing even at…?” — He glanced around, eyes pinning on a couple of shlocky horror thrillers and niches from the 90’s piled up at the very corner of everything. All of them with differing dates, but equal level of horridness — “Over there…?” — Half-whispering, a hand on his chin as he questioned if they were lazy enough to just bunch up all of the bad movies in the same place.

“Wh...!”— It wasn’t until he took his first step that he finally noticed those red strings lining the floor. Dante froze, eyes wide, throwing his hand back to try and bang it on Tak’s chest, stop him in his tracks. His hand went up too high.

He ended up just smacking him across the face instead — “The fuck is that…!? You seeing this shit…?” — Truth be told, it would’ve been rather difficult for Tak to really see that shit with Dante’s hand still on his face.

He’d snuck around one too many luxury suites and mansions before, robbed banks blind, but never in his twenty-four years had he seen anything like this — “Are those fucking lasers…?”

Where the fuck had he been renting his DVDs from this whole time?

---

Before the clerk could even react to Minato’s phase 2, there was another sound cue.

The sound of heavier, faster footfalls rushed behind her, crunching gravel beneath their feet — it didn’t spare her the time to turn and look. A dark silhouette pulled from the darkness, as if a shadow itself had emerged from the pavement. A glint of something sharp caught glistening in the moonlight, pressed against her throat. A shaky, gloved hand lazily wrapped around her shoulder, ticking against her.

“How ‘bout ya’ give us all y’ money ‘fore we waste the both of ya’ instead, huh, wagie?” — Hot, nasty breath billowed on greenie’s neck. The man was hard to see, cowled by the darkness as he was, but from her peripherals there was the sight of a plain black leather jacket and a biker’s helmet, matching in color — “Say, boss! How’s ‘bout we just kill these fuckin’ chumps and take the money off a' they corpses!? I’m getting’ impatient here! T—HehEHHEHEhEHhEheHEHeheHEHEHHEHEHEHHE!!!!!!!!”

The biker laughed in an awfully annoying pitch, tone rising and dropping like a broken scale. Over the clerk’s shoulder, a hand moved to pull up the ‘visor’ of the biker’s helmet. It was pitch black darkness in there, absolute hollowness, a gaping void— up until a dozen set of blood-red eyes and milk-white fangs materialized within the biker’s open helmet, grinning wide at Minato.

“C’mon min-min! Beat up that faker n’ save the damsel in distress! ‘M sure she’ll fall for you right after. I’ll let ya’ land some hits on me, don’t go worryin’ ‘bout it~ GYE—HEHheheheheheh~…!”

Cerberus was being the best wingman she could be.

thebigfella Elenion Aura

 

[Doctor Llamabean]

Boltius "BLITZ" Beckman

CS Link

SCENE:

Bedlam Blitz!

TIME:

Post-Arc 3 — July 10th, 2021; Sunrise

LOCATION:

Whiteleaf, South District; Echo Whisper Point...

PARTICIPANTS:

Boltius, Hector, Milo, Yukari, Raquel, Leaf, Zach

BEDLAM BLITZ!

The furrow of Boltius’ brow deepened as he observed the two Rookies’ behavior toward their Senior, Raquel—first Milo then Leaf. Confliction. That’s what he felt. A tear between defending his fellow Senior or taking up for the Rookies who were more aware of the current situation before Raquel sauntered onto the scene.

But there was another tear… a deep one of self-doubt, for since the raid on CDPD HQ, Boltius had been questioning himself as leadership more than he had the day Hector offered him the reign. Guilt still circled his conscience like a dirty halo. Could he be trusted to make decisions for the gang? Was he trusted? Was he worthy?

Those questions stuck to him like leeches, carrion pecking away at the flesh of his confidence.

He was a go-getter. A headstrong Phoenix who hardly questioned himself in a fight no matter the odds, so it was unusual to see him so quiet in the face of internal conflict like a pending Rookie versus Senior, in the middle of which Zach took his turn at the old man.

Contrary to Leaf’s initial approach, Zach was like sweet butter, spitting talk of sympathy and peas in pods, afterward asking the group: “What do you guys think? Isn’t this a better plan?”

“Better plan, my ass, dawg,” Boltius curled his lip, kicking the dirt, “We shoulda done-”

“Alright, alright,” The boss stepped in and Boltius bit his tongue, moving aside. This whole situation had him tapping his foot with agitation, a lousy con approach, letting someone play King of the Phoenixes while the real King was missing.

“Maybe you’d rather talk about this inside? We can go over anything that needs clearing up. I was running a little late, but I’ve got the most authority here, so I oughta have been the one to break any news about these shipments.”

“Y-yes, let's take this into the garage. I will... J-just make a call.”

The old man proceeded toward the building, flip-phone in hand, leading the Phoenixes along as Boltius took a last look at the shadowy treeline beyond the chain link fence. Through those trees was the supposed “Echo Whisper Point” they were looking for. And Boltius was eager to get to the point, not sit around an ATV shop, sip fucking coffee, and share gossip about Armond of whom Boltius had not the slightest clue in the first place.

When they entered the building, they barely had enough time to look around before the old man’s call was made, a signal to the third-party on the other end, and gas pervaded the surprisingly well-sealed room. Although Boltius hadn’t been one to notice the play, he wasn’t so dense that the gas didn’t register as a bad sign. His lungs burned. He coughed, cursed, and staggered toward where he knew the exit to be, vision obscured. If he could just open the door and air the place out- but that was too optimistic. Boltius managed to make it out, tasting the fresh air, but the effects of the toxin had already reached his brain. There was nothing he could do but bite the dust, a face-full of hard concrete. Then everything faded.

In his unconscious, he heard voices.

A woman’s. “The Queen and… just a bunch of nobodies.”

Then a man’s. “Not exactly… this’un’s Draken’s little brother. He’s the Ace.”

“Oh? Ace and the Queen? Aren’t they the only acting leadership, right now?”

“Got that right.”

“What a move,” the woman chuckled, “They’re making this too easy.”

“Just pick one already.”

She hummed playfully, “Which one inhaled the least?”

“Probly ‘at one… was the only one outside.”

“Ace it is then.” Hearing that, Boltius felt a pair of hands wrap around his head, two thumbs caressing his cheekbones. Panic rose within but still he couldn’t move. “Shh-shh-shhh~ Don’t fret, my little puppet. I’ll kill you, too, when it’s all over. Trevin,” she addressed the other briefly, “put our bodies in my room, would you?”

“Sure thing. How long ya think it’ll take?”

“Depends on what I’ve got to work with. I’m going in.” A wave of energy, like a burst of adrenaline, coursed through Boltius’ body just then. Putting a face to the voice, he suddenly saw her in his memories, watched her flip through them like a picture book as if she were looking for something. She opened doors that not even Bolt knew had been there—every suppressed fear throughout his life, every imagination, every thought spilled out and the woman rifled through them as if, indecisive, choosing an outfit for a party.

When she found what she wanted, she commenced weaving. And when the Phoenixes woke before Armond, Boltius stood at Armond's side without a word, meeting eyes with Milo before the rest, a smug smirk briefly crossing his countenance before overtaken again by distaste.

BOLTIUS NOTES​

— —POST RECAP: The Phoenixes are outplayed and relocated. Boltius falls under the affects of an unknown potential.

— —TEMPERATURE: Neutral

— —TATTOO: (Click Here)

— —WEARING: (Click Here)

(Interacting w/ Milo, Hector, Leaf, Yukari, Zach, Raquel)
(Mentioned no one)
Elenion Aura WhiskeyMarten @Misuteeku @QuirkyAngel @Astrylan Haze-​

 

[Elenion Aura]

XUEFENG

SCENE:

Growing Pains

TIME:

Post-Outbreak || July 15th, 2022

LOCATION:

East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Jackson, Kanna

GROWING PAINS

The boy looked Jackson up and down. His tail swished and ears twitched at the mention of crazy stuff. It looked like he was about to speak.

"Hmph." The Child huffed. He rocked to his feet and stalked down the steps, green eyes flashing first to the woman at the back of the pack, then to the hand at her sword before locking eyes with her once more, if only briefly. There was wariness there, tinged with scornful pride. Just try it, lady, his eyes did say.

The next face was a familiar one. Xuefeng's pupils dilated ever-so-slightly to better absorb the details of that face. It wasn't the one he knew best. His shoulders hadn't slumped at that realization, but they wanted to. Turning his nose up at the offer of candy, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his baggy trousers and walked in a slow half-circle, pointedly ignoring the rest of the group... Until one of them spoke up and said something that pricked his curiosity. Outside.

His mind momentarily raced. Then, all became clear. Turning to Kanna with a cherubic look, Xuefeng nodded.


The group was greeted by several aghast looks from staff as they made their way through a connecting corridor that led from the interior of the palace to a quaint, open courtyard. Beyond the courtyard, the sprawling East District Markets unfolded below them, reachable by just a few flights of ornate marble stairs.

It was turning out to be a lovely day. The sky was clear. The sun warm and bright and undimmed by passing clouds. The sounds of the market floated upward, sounds of chattering voices and foot traffic like the hum and heartbeat of civilization just out of reach. Xuefeng stretched in the light. The stretch turned into a yawn, that turned back into a stretch.

He waited for the perfect moment, then bolted toward the steps. Toward freedom.

 

[Elenion Aura]

SHUWEI YUN

SCENE:

Whispers at Dusk

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1

LOCATION:

Taiyōkō Shrine, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Mirza, Hifumi, Ruriko, Shuwei

WHISPERS AT DUSK

The animal at the gate caught his eye, but more pressing matters—as pressing matters had a habit of doing—demanded his attention before he could give the diminutive creature much more than a passing thought.

He shook his head disapprovingly at the guard as he was led away and out of sight. This was an old staple of Ruriko's. He stepped through the portal with her, arriving inside the shrine. He watched his step, however. His feet found only stone.

“If you are trying to ransack the place, you're a little late.” Shuwei joked wryly, but gazing at the sad state of the Bae Family's Shrine, he didn't find it all that funny.

With a mind for the two men before whom they now stood, Shuwei stepped forward, squared his shoulders, and bowed. When he straightened, he addressed each of the men in turn.

To Hifumi, he said, "Lord Bae, in my father's name and on the honor of Clan Yun, we will see this injustice avenged."

Turning to Mirza, he gestured to the mask. “May I?”

Shuwei accompanied the others, led by Hifumi, to one side of the disheveled temple where a group of women huddled. He crossed his arms and kept his own council. Someone better suited to this task than him had accompanied them. Shuwei would defer to Mirza's leadership in this regard.

 

[angel doe]

celestine renee cadieux

CS Link

SCENE:

friends who slay together stay together

LOCATION:

the tucker's house, north district outskirts

TIME:

post arc 3

PARTICIPANTS:

teddie, celestine

friends who slay together stay together

“Aw, you’re a natural!”

Celestine looked at Eliza with bright eyes, a light blush tinting her cheeks, "You mean that?" Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, a small smile formed and she stepped on the man's hand again. Normally this sort of violence wasn't her thing, but today was an exception; she had to get her emotions out somehow, after all.

"I will message you the place I got these shoes if you tell me where you got your stomping shoes," Celeste added as she gestured to the boots Eliza was wearing while she crushed the man's arm, "Those seem to be very effective."

She went quiet as Teddie pulled a knife from his jacket, approaching the man and asking for her to watch and learn. Curiously, Celestine took a step closer and crouched slightly so she could get a better look. She covered her ears with both hands when the man screamed, but never took her eyes off what Teddie was doing, nodding in understanding.

“Don’t get rid of them both. He needs to see your pretty face still. You got all that?”

"Yes! I got it all," Celestine responded, lowering her hands from her ears, "Do not worry, I will not touch his other eye."

“Do you have a weapon on you? You can borrow one of mine if you want, Celeste!”

At Eliza's question, Celestine turned to her with a small smile, "I appreciate the offer, Eliza, but I do have something of my own I would like to try first." Carefully pushing her skirt up slightly, just enough so the thigh sheath was visible, Celeste unsheathed a recently sharpened serrated blade. She said nothing as she approached the man with the knife, crouching beside him and lifting his recently crushed arm, "This might hurt a bit."

With a delicate hand, Celestine carefully sliced into the top few layers of skin and slowly peeled them away, her eyes not once leaving the man. Despite this being messy and a bit evil, something about this was surprisingly therapeutic. Once Celeste had finished skinning his arm she looked up at Teddie and Eliza with another smile, eyes sparkling, "Is that good?"

WhiskeyMarten

 

[simj26]

Kisara McDowell

CS Link

SCENE:

Iniquitas Deorum

LOCATION:

North District, Waterfront

PARTICIPANTS:

Kisara, Bash

Iniquitas Deorum

Straight for the throat. This was more like it. No dancing about with all the flash and none of the substance. To say that she missed these kinds of battles was an understatement. Every battle worth remembering up to this date had been polluted with the overt display of unnecessary powers. Too much salt in the broth, so to speak. Sometimes, good food didn't need seasoning. True strength came from the body, from honed skill, not from gifts that nobody deserved.

To that end, she decided to level that playing field. Sparks of violet coursed through her physique as she drew her jacket from her shoulders, discarding it into the rain, and raised her arms to block Bash's blow.

His fist scattered the rain drops as it collided with her forearms, the impact sending a shock wave through the rain. She held her gaze steady as the sparks died away, nullified by her dance partner's own Potential. In the now pouring, drenching rain, a smirk crept onto her face.

She could feel his heart. All he wanted to say was in that blow, and possibly many more to come. This, however, was her own response. He wanted to take what was hers, and she let him readily do so.

For even if a snake had lost its venom, it still had its fangs.

She shifted her stance, her left arm snaking forwards, coiling around his right, as her right came upwards from below, swinging an uppercut straight towards his jaw.

Nobody Special

 

[Coyote Hart]

Peyton Xiong

CS Link

SCENE:

Carmine Consort

LOCATION:

Peyton's Studio Apartment, North District

TIME:

Pre-Arc 1 || June 9th, 2017

PARTICIPANTS:

Peyton, Raphael

Carmine Consort

Peyton's apartment was a mess. That weekend's laundry was scattered across the cheaply tiled floor, interspersed with empty styrofoam containers that once had instant ramen in them, the cheap single-use chopsticks used to eat it sometimes balanced on top and sometimes scattered on the floor. As Peyton stood in a corner of the studio apartment with Raph in another corner, the pint-sized Serpent realized that he was laying himself bare in front of Raph's eyes, both literally and in a vulnerable, symbolic way. If the sadistic Serpent had decided to kill Peyton right now, nobody would know.

Was it bad that Peyton thought that the cruelty of the prospect was rather titillating?

Peyton climbed out of his gore soaked pants. It was ruined, there was no way the blood would wash out. Similarly, his hoodie and even his undershirt were covered in blood, and both were discarded into a pile. He'd throw them out later with Raph's ruined clothes.

As Peyton inspected himself to see what new injuries he had sustained, he felt a sudden warm weight rest itself on Peyton's shoulders. And when Peyton saw Raph's arms encircle his collarbone, Peyton reached up to rest his hand on Raph's forearm. Instinctively, Peyton leaned back a little, letting the contact extend to their torsos. He felt Raph's hot breath on his neck, making him shiver and sprout goosebumps on his skin. It was distracting enough to make Peyton almost not realize that Raph was talking to him.

"Yeah, I feel the same!" Peyton turned his head to the side to meet Raph's eye, their noses practically close enough to touch. The contact of skin on skin felt electric, and his fang-filled grin was paired with a blush on his cheeks, "It felt really good getting to let loose! Thanks for letting me come along! Honestly, I'm kinda having trouble coming down from all that fun!"

Peyton suddenly realized that perhaps it was the same for Raph, and without hesitation, Peyton perked up with an offer, "If you also are still feeling hot and bothered, why don't you take it out on me tonight? I'm okay with you doing whatever you want to me!"

Of course, Peyton had meant that Raph could unleash any sadistic urges onto him, but even if his words were misunderstood, one part stood true-- Raph was allowed to do whatever he wanted to Peyton.

Elenion Aura

 

[Haze-]

Dante Aguilar

CS Link

SCENE:

Not Quite Pet Sitting

TIME:

☽ Jan 2nd, 2022 || Post-Arc 2

LOCATION:

Invaded factory; North District

PARTICIPANTS:

Camila, Dante

Not Quite Pet Sitting

He stood watching her in a hush, just letting her speak without even a shred of reaction, eyes glossing over her hips once and never again. The only real sound, only reaction, that came off him was the — Shff — shifting of pushed-up glasses. His hand hung at his face for a little too long as he kept listening to her go through a list of names, his moniker. She got him to raise a brow. It wasn’t entirely amusement that lurked beneath the glossy reflection on the lenses of those prescriptions of his.

No, he’d had one too many tigers pull up his information by then. The novelty of it, the shock factor, wore off on him after the third time. He was in a world of suspended approximations then, suspicion, distrust— had to look over his shoulder back when he started this whole thing. Now, that little party trick was just getting annoying more than anything.

‘Covering’ his tracks had been out of his mind for a good long while now. They were out there in the snow, his footsteps, too many branded in the soil. Any tiger with a decent enough nose could pin him out easy no matter how much he tried to lessen himself, lower his presence. It was pointless.

“Again,” — He was monotone, looming over her — “Call me whatever you want tonight. Like you said, I don’t really care.”

Cocky. That’s what she was. He’d figured it out by then, no need for more potshots. They were playing henchman and forewoman. Dante simply grunted, nodded when this Lilim gave her praises to him, even if he knew they likely meant little. He pocketed his hands, sauntering over to the metal fence with her.

“Solid’s one way to put it, I guess.” — A hand hung on the top of the fence. He held it there, shifting to turn and glance at her — “You can’t hope for much with the snakes; they’ve always been this sloppy. Their security ain’t strong, that’s all. I don’t expect a bunch of crackheads and half-functioning psychos to guard-dog some documents straight, they’re bound to fuck up.”

Surprisingly for a guy of his stature, when he mounted the fence, it was as if he had the lithe of a street-cat. Not even the faintest sound, not a sluggish motion. When he was up and over it, touched ground, he was just as silent. Dante stuck low to the ground, a head or two shorter on buckled knees.

It was a slow gait, without bothering to look back. He was expecting her to follow him, too.

A couple of silent steps in the gravel, something whizzed in his skull. Something scratching, scrabbling, a low growl. Three voices in unison. One hissed, a young woman. Another whined, a man. The last was low, quiet, androgynous. He clicked his tongue, tired eyes narrowing at the familiarity of them.

“They’re watching…”

“They’ll see you…”​

“Move...”​

He fell back unto the cover of a large deposit container, back angled against it — “These documents,” — he half-whispered, just loud enough for her to hear him — “Any idea of where they might be keeping them?”

Time for Lilim to flex her knowledge.

Roda the Red

 

[Doctor Llamabean]

Boltius "BLITZ" Beckman

CS Link

SCENE:

Honesty, Open Heart

TIME:

Post-Arc 3 — June 9th, 2022; Late

LOCATION:

For Vacancy Bar, East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Boltius, Dyne

HONESTY, OPEN HEART

Boltius looked between Dyne’s eyes, his own betraying the hurt he felt, and he could see the fear, as well as the confusion, which helped to believe her weak response. She had been carefree like spring wind since he’d met her, the type to frolick, so her face beside a devilish scheme against the Phoenixes was hard to picture.

After her last words, Boltius held his position, feeling her pulse in the hand wrapped around her throat. His face twisted, head shaking as if he couldn’t figure out what to do.

The trained Phoenix in him said to kill her for association with the Dragons. He’d been loyal since the day he joined, a sponsee under his own brother who came before anyone else. Another part of him, stemming from the roots of his humanity, said to let it go. She hadn’t hurt anyone yet, not that he knew of—in fact, she’d done the opposite, ensuring the safety of the wall-walking Rookie, Roza.

She wasn't a threat. A gangster by name but that was it...

Baring his gritted teeth, he barely managed a sharp, “Dammit,” and jerked his hand away from Dyne’s throat, taking a few steps back.

“This coulda been different.” Boltius couldn’t look her in the eyes anymore, but he didn’t let his guard down. Should the man behind the bar make any sudden movement, he would set the building ablaze. “If you got somethin’ ta say, make it your last words and I’ll be out of here. If I see you in the South again, you’re fair game, Dyne.”

BOLTIUS NOTES​

— —POST RECAP: Boltius assaults Dyne. Sort of.

— —TEMPERATURE: Neutral

— —TATTOO: (Click Here)

— —WEARING: Black tank top and basketball shorts; Also wearing his regular bling. His arm is in a sling.

(Interacting w/ Dyne)
(Mentioned no one)
@Damafaud​

 

[FabulousTrash]

[media]N/A[/MEDIA]

KANNA KATSURA

SCENE:

Growing Pains

TIME:

[Post-Outbreak] July 15th, 2022

LOCATION:

East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Jackson, Kanna, Renjiro, Isaiah, Chiyome

Growing Pains

Xuefeng was fast. But Kanna could be faster. And was. Lest he had some sort of super speed potential.

The Dragon Jack was quick to react, pushing herself off the floor and forward, the lack of gravity enhancing her momentum. It took just a second to catch up to the child as she reached forward, picking him up by the shirt collar.

"No."

Her voice was soft, yet the tone firm. A warning for Xuefeng. The child remained in her grasp for a few more minutes.

"You stay beside us, or this will be the last time you get let out, hm?"

Kanna lower Xuefeng back down to the ground, her eyes watching intently for his next move. If he were to try and escape them again, she'd have no choice but to cut this outing short and bring him back inside. Was it a bad idea to bring him out to begin with? Probably, most likely yes. But Kanna wanted to give Xuefeng a fair chance to prove that he could behave. However she knew that it would be an uphill battle, given his previous record. Kanna could easily recall her own adolescent years. In certain cases, she once behaved just as Xuefeng was behaving now. But unlike her parents, who corrected that with harsh discipline, the Jack opted to try for a different approach.

Her eyes briefly looked around at the different booths, all offering different wares ranging from food to trinkets. Kanna glanced back down towards Xuefeng.

"Is there anything you want? My treat."

 

[Mqueserasera]

Jacques de la Isarn

SCENE:

Happy Therapy with Dr. Jacques (Dagger Ver.)

LOCATION:

Dr. Haman's Office, West District

TIME:

July, 18th

PARTICIPANTS:

Jacques, Dagger

Happy Therapy with Doctor Jacques (Dagger ver.)

“But is that really alright, Dr. Haman? You think it’s alright to do that?”

Jacques blinked. “What’s alright?”

The real Dr. Haman, of course, was still being locked up in the closet. Not her own now, for last night Jacques had had the decency to transfer his predecessor to the closet at his home, a much more expansive affair than the cramped and unfashionable one in the psychiatrist's office. Compared to the doctor’s fierce protest even in the face of threatened and applied violence, Jacques found the man sitting across from him more than a bit dull.

A pair of square glasses perched upon the man’s unremarkable nose, matching the dull black brown color of his eyes and striped tie. One could glean from his clean cut hair sprinkled with hints of gray and-- Jacques’s consciousness trailed off. Everything about the man was so dull Jacques’s attention absolutely refused to attend him for more than a heartbeat.

“Your advice, doctor. What you told me to do just now?” the man asked hesitantly.

The “doctor” stared blankly as his memory protested the recalling of anything remotely related to such a dull man. “I’m not sure we are on the same page, Emmanuel dear, can you tell me again what’s your problem?” he asked in the tired voice of an aged woman who must feigned interest in her husband’s political tirades because at her age there’s not much of a choice in the matter, and so she simply smiles and nods and even shakes her fist in the air once in a while.

“Eh? It’s Richard. Though of course, it was just a joke, haha. How could you not remember your patient’s name, right? Nice joke there, doctor!”

Even his slight laugh was grating. He didn’t even laugh, Jacques observed, so much as mouthed the syllable out loud, as one who tries to sound a word in an unfamiliar language.

“So, well, my problem, you see,” he hemmed and hawed, “it is about, I think, my workplace relationship with--for of course you know there’s bound to be conflicts in such a bureaucratic environment--”

“Alright, peace,” Jacques cut him off, “You do something or another in the City Hall, I remember now. And your colleagues hate you, eh? I get it now. It depresses you, since they act as obstacles on your promotion path and they never care how hard you--phew...” Jacques did not - could not - finish the sentence. He hadn’t the energy or motivation for it.

“I would not say ‘hate’, you see. More like inevitable disagreements--”

“Look, Henry, look,” Jacques spread his hands, “You are an adult, we both are. Please call things how they are. You must not be afraid of words, Harry! Just as you can’t ignore the symptoms of a physical ailment. You don’t call cancer a cough, do you?”

“Well, of course, the nuances, however--”

“Shut up, Charles! Can’t you shut up? I’m trying to help you here! We have to face the truth! We both have to - together - or it would all be meaningless! I am a midwife in a fishing village spying the secret of life in the gaping mouth of a thing and the thing that precedes it, but I have no use for the wisdom since I have elected a quiet life and so I must stand by it, what with destiny being in the marrow of a man and his bonny, and I the ugly fairy pressing her nose against the glass trying and yet never reaching the cradle of life unless for a changeling. Listen to me, Antonio, listen, I know it’s tempting to turn away from the truth because so long as one’s not looking then that truth may as well be a pretty thing yet. But you are an adult, and you must admit it when someone hates you and despises you! And you know what? There’s no changing people’s minds or opinions, ever! Never, you hear? I see in your nonplussed eyes that you think there’s a chance yet to turn them around and win them over to your side - but that’s never going to happen - not for so long as you live - not so long as love and hate are still a thing. But hey, all this you already knew. You have tried to appease them before, with bribes or flattery, but that did not work so well, has it? And after a while you began to do it out of an ugly habit rather than any need. You don’t even care anymore if your career would be at a standstill forever because of them. You don’t even care that all of your efforts have been for naught. You don’t!”

“I... don’t?”

“Oh no you don’t! Everyone wants to be loved, aren’t they? It’s painful to be hated and it’s painful even more to want to love or be loved by someone who hates you. This pain must be uprooted, taken with your both hands outstretched and pulled with all your might! With all your heart! How? By acting how your heart desires. What does it desire? To hate when it is hated! Retribution! For too long you have suppressed it and you mustn't anymore! And that is the cause of your depression! Lash out, Miyazaki, lash out and let them see what you’re about!”

“But... is that alright?” he hemmed and hawed. “Wouldn’t that be too drastic a measure...”

Jacques shot from his seat, then marched without a word to the office’s closet. From there he produced a golf club - the very one he had used to threaten the doctor into submission the day before. Now back to the fretting man at the chaise lounge, he seized his hand with a strength unexpected in a middle-aged woman, and dragged the dull patient to the door. He kicked it open, revealing under his white coat a frilly layer and some extra content under that layer even. There he thrust the club in Richard’s arms.

“This is what you are going to do,” he said, “You are going to go to your office right now, precisely because it’s your day off, and beat the hell out of the mongrels who dared complain behind your back. If they are not there, you are going to mess up their offices, their desks, or whatever, you hear?”

“I really don’t think...”

“Be a man, Maria, and go off,” Jacques said. Then with a swift movement, he seized the dull patient’s face and planted upon his lips a deep kiss, before promptly exiling the stupefied man from the waiting room.

“Now,” he turned about, addressing the waiting room at large, “who’s next?”

simj26

 

[Doctor Llamabean]

August "TAZZ" August

CS Link

SCENE:

Feelers in the Deep

TIME:

Post-Outbreak — July 18th, 2022; Late

LOCATION:

Beyond the outskirts of North District

PARTICIPANTS:

August, Rytaro

FEELERS IN THE DEEP

Quid pro quo.

August straightened up to show he was listening, a quick nod of approval, further adjusting his stance to face the man head-on. Every next word was one that he could agree with; however, the thing about August was just that… He had always been a loner, working from the shadows with only his own hand to hold unless his daddy caught wind.

He wasn’t loyal. In the face of negative odds, he would always betray another’s best interest to benefit or save himself. However… August was cooperative enough. It wasn’t that he had an evil heart or went into business hoping to betray someone. And so, when Ryutaro finished talking, the intention with which August advanced the conversation was, for now, incorrupt.

He pondered the benefits, weighed the risks, and decided to accept the offer.

“It’s within, mate. But ah’ll get it whethah ya wear tha crown o’ not… If it means knockin’ Weiss down a peg, ah’m in—at’s motivation enough ta give a hand—but don’t count on me ta risk mah life foh ya. Gotta coupla billions worth of collections locked up somewheh,” he started, “Mahkus had’em commandeered mah first month as a Rookie an’ ‘aven’t seen’em since.”

“Get me a location an’ ah’ll do tha rest.” He withdrew another cigarette from his jacket pocket and placed it between his lips, lighting it. On his next words, smoke fumed from his mouth and nose, spiraling up. “No need ta shake on it. In a world of HPs, those only getcha killed. We can skip tha part wheh we trade numbahs, too, since it seems ya already know how ta contact me... Now, wot next?”

AUGUST NOTES​

— —POST RECAP: The conversation thickens.

— —WEARING: TBA

(Interacting w/ Ryutaro)
(Mentioned no one)
joshuadim ​

 

[joshuadim]

RYUTARO HASHIMOTO

CS Link

SCENE:

Feelers in the Deep

LOCATION:

Just outside New Oasis, closer to the North District

PARTICIPANTS:

Ryutaro, August

Feelers in the Deep

The terms were set by August, given as the form of a verbal contract between the two of them for review. What the young man meant by collection could have been any numerous sort of things, which in turn made the idea of a search more difficult. A collection of art could be stashed away in a myriad of places, many more inconspicuous than not, while a collection of jewels or other tangible valuables had a secure storage of some kind - perhaps a vault, either personal or deep in a bank. The latter posed a challenge, given what he himself had previously encountered as security the last time he broke in somewhere.

The idea of a drug collection also passed through his mind briefly, though he dismissed the idea when he looked over August again. He didn't seem the type to be a drug lord. Nor the type to be peddling rocks on the street.

"Now? You'll hear from me for when the time comes to strike." Ryu said, "Though, a few extra details would go a long way in helping find the location of this 'collection' of yours. What is it? Helps to narrow down where Markus could have stashed such a thing."

Doctor Llamabean

 

[Elenion Aura]

SHEN YUE

SCENE:

The First Day

TIME:

[Pre Arc 1] March 2018

LOCATION:

East District

PARTICIPANTS:

Shen, Kanna

THE FIRST DAY

"There's this little squirrel here," Shen said by way of reply. In his hand he held a small stalk of something. The squirrel was eyeing it greedily. Shen turned toward the source of the voice.

"Ah, there you are." The Dragon King smiled a plain smile. The squirrel plucked the sweet treat from his hand. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten!" The irony of that statement—or the fact that this was not their agreed upon rendezvous—was almost certainly lost on him. He gave the squirrel a gentle pat on its fuzzy head. It was too busy stuffing its cheeks to notice.

"We should get going. Lots to do!" With that, Shen strode out of the courtyard, through the palace, and out the grand arched doors that led toward East District proper.

Where Shen walked, attendants and fellow Azure Dragons either fell out of the way or gave attention. For his part, he either ignored them or simply smiled amicably and kept on his way. Before long, they had crossed the boundary of Azure Palace, with its high walls now looming behind them as they ventured into the bustling street markets.

From the moment they'd started out on their journey, Shen had not once looked back, his eyes peeled ever forward. The bustle of foot traffic parted before him like waves against rocky shores, yet he seemed not to notice the looks of the passers-by, of reverence and fear.

"Ah, Mister Chin!" Suddenly, the King veered off his straight and narrow path. He was waving to an elderly man behind a fruit cart. All smiles, Shen plucked up the plumpest, freshest golden-orange fruit and took a large bite. "Mm!" He hummed as he chewed, contemplating the flavor. Gulping it down, he beamed. "That's the best one yet!"

Shen turned over his shoulder to find Kanna. His face looked almost surprised, as though he'd forgotten she was there. After a moment's pause, he looked from his newly minted Jack to the cart of fruits and back again. "You want one?"

 

[Doctor Llamabean]

August "TAZZ" August

CS Link

SCENE:

Feelers in the Deep

TIME:

Post-Outbreak — July 18th, 2022; Late

LOCATION:

Beyond the outskirts of North District

PARTICIPANTS:

August, Rytaro

FEELERS IN THE DEEP

“Fair ‘nough,” said August. He began walking backwards with lousy steps, scuffing the ground underfoot, slouched in the shoulders.

Teal eyes went up at Ryutaro’s request for extra details about August’s desired collections, and he thought for a moment before blowing a large cloud of smoke. “‘S a little bit of everythin’, mate. Books, flags, weapons—lots of ‘em… Figurines, music boxes, flash drives. All fancies ‘at mah dad collected growin’ up, passed onto me, which furthah grew ‘til ah had enough ta fill a safe’ouse.”

He cocked his jaw to the side and clicked his tongue. “Won’t be someplace small… ‘less Weiss split it up… if it’s anywheh fuh that mattah. Wouldn’t shock me to find’em in ashes.” But it would hurt.

“Anyhow…” A wide distance had grown between August and the Queen by now. It was late and he was tired, ever the drowsy hypersomniac.

Lifting a hand in stiff waving, he discarded his second cigarette without stomping it out this time. “‘S ‘bout mah bed time, mate. Bettah be off.” He let wind circle around his feet, kicking up dust. Then, with a final, “Call me,” he was off. A dramatic exit—the abrupt manifestation of a howling tornado preceded his disappearance. When it calmed, Ryutaro was alone.

AUGUST NOTES​

— —POST RECAP: August makes his exit.

— —WEARING: TBA

(Interacting w/ Ryutaro)
(Mentioned no one)
joshuadim ​